On Our Shadow's Lungs
by Regina Tosch
Summary: Rey and Kylo Ren suffer from similar injuries, deep and disturbing, but they choose opposite remedies. Both have to figure out a way how to stay in control of their own lives, while the bond between them is about to snap. Angsty and heavy-headed reylo fanfic placed in between TFA and TLJ with little to no commitment to the actual movie plotlines or secondary characters :)
1. Homogenic

_Hunter_

It was the poetry of nothingness. He had ascribed himself fully to the negation of everything. Hatred for his father had taught him that. And his mother's indolent kind of love had not been able to stop it. He was no longer Ben Solo. He was content in his heart that he had devised an identity so truly befitting his rank. He almost despised his parents for having brought him into this world under a different name. Any name but Solo. The lowlife of a father and the expectations of a son. This couldn't have gone well. Years had passed and he had neither missed his parents, nor had any affection for them, other than what fit into a small corner of his sear heart. That damned body, so needy and gullible, was what had caught on to him. And he hadn't been sorry before.

She disturbed him on too many levels at once. Her raspy voice, the unflinching stare of those big brown eyes, and her slender frame made him vastly uncomfortable. He didn't make the mistake to think it mutual, though. Kylo Ren was not naive. He knew very well the unholy power of love, how it bent the hopeful, and yielded to insanity. He knew because he had been loved. And he had been disappointed. Yet, that strange feeling, the giddy sensation of tense muscles and a fluttering in his stomach, was new to him. Ren would not allow himself to be intimate with any living creature. The idea of blind passion, of deliberately giving up the only freedom he had left, scared the shit out of him.

Kylo Ren may not have known much about passionate love, but he knew about strategy. He knew the way to Rey was through these dark currents he didn't want anyone to wade through for him – family. He forbade any talk about it. Anyone who mentioned his father to him would be sliced. Literally. Kylo was well aware that he was more uncompromising about it than would be necessary. In all likelihood, he would be more alone than even he could wish for. But the recklessness of his own heart made him understand that her desire to be accepted and loved was what _governed_ the seemingly independent Rey.

And now she was before him, her mind fighting like an entire arsenal to keep her body upright and her mind sane. It was impressive, amazing even, to see nature operate with such blind zeal. He was dumbfounded after she had not only withstood his high-skilled probing, but had actually turned the trick on him. _She_, a lowly unskilled scavenger.

Moving away and turning his back to her, Kylo Ren observed his hands beginning to shake and his tongue gathering sand from her clothing and dust out of the air, sweat pouring out of his pores like glittering drops of milk. Like a virus, her scent settled in his soft tissue, irremovable, and incriminating in every sense. And for the first time in many, many years, he actually felt _helpless_. He needed the Supreme Leader's guidance, and fast. His training had not prepared him for this kind of education. The scavenger wasn't even a skilled user of the Force. But a force user she was indeed. Ren shook. And to avoid further embarrassment, he left the room instantly, not looking at her.

Kylo Ren was a Master of the Knights of Ren. He knew how to get what he wanted. And if some scheming was necessary, he would apply it, now that he had the Supreme Leader's full, if somewhat taciturn, guidance. His greater triumph was yet ahead. He would let her go, eventually. Let her show him where the resistance hideout was. He was about to show something that he had barely understood as a theoretical concept: benevolence. But it was necessary, for the greater good.

_How_ in all the worlds she had managed to _free_ herself from the chair, from the holding cell, with guards present, enraged him to a level that even he himself was surprised at. In his mind's eye, he could see how she had peeled herself out of the holding chair, sighing with relief, and he was furious. Within minutes, she had transformed layers of him he didn't even know existed. His anger turned into bitterness and aggression, as it always did, and in his anguish he thrust the light saber into power, and started slashing through metal panels.

She would have to pay, she would have to suffer. But he would make her suffer so that everybody in the Resistance could see. Especially that Punic FN 2187 who had _contemplated_ defecting and actually had gone through with it. Kylo Ren tried to calm his nerves. It made him bilious to ponder, and he enjoyed the anger, but it also distracted him from the mission, he knew. He detested the Storm Trooper for what he had done and thought him unworthy scum. But he couldn't help but envy him his easy way around Rey.

That part of the plan pissed him off. He had not sent his men. Kylo Ren would deal with this himself. He had been reamed by the Supreme Leader, and had even suffered a browbeating from that odious man, General Hux. No one this low and unskilled would make him take this _again_. He would follow her. But what he saw in his mind was nothing short of disturbing. Her closeness with that defecting scumbag angered him beyond all sense. And he scolded himself for having been so misguided.

_Bachelorette_

The principle of Rey's life had been hope – even in the face of daily disappointment. Anguish had carpeted most of her emotional belt, so every blast of woe wouldn't be felt too hard. It was what the psyche did on its own. It made her appear shallow to her fellow creatures. It was survival mode. Almost all she could recall invoking any kind of feeling was being left on Jakku and spending every single ensuing minute waiting. Waiting for a return. And each night, it hadn't happened. So she'd wait some more. For her family, for her past to come back and claim her, as promised.

She had grown tired and exhausted from all the waiting. Giving up hope, however – this treacherous eel – she dared not. It was, after all, the only thing that reminded her of her parents. Her existence was nothing to be proud of, to be sure. Being a scavenger barely paid enough to get through the day, and on some days, she would even go to sleep hungry. But she wasn't ashamed. She was capable of pulling her own weight and had no attachments to slow her down. The droid, noisy and obtrusive as he was, made an awkward companion, with his secrecy and all. But being, as he was, her only companion, Rey hadn't paid it much mind. Until people started asking around for a BB unit and made all kinds of threatening remarks.

Not in her wildest dreams would she have assumed that he was vital to overthrowing the totalitarian regime of slaughter and oppression that was billowing like an icy wind through the galaxy. Who were they? She didn't know and she sure as hell didn't need to meet anyone from the First Order. And now that! Strapped in a metal chair, with her head slotted against the sparse head rest, just to make sure she wasn't comfortable at all. And he was towering over her. Not invasive, not brutal, not harrowing. And yet, his presence was unsettling. He unnerved her and it was his object. He wanted to _see_ where the droid was. And Rey could see that he was not one of those scumbags on Jakku that could be gainsaid and sent on their way with a pithy reply.

Her limbs were tied to the cold machine, fixing her body in an odd position, making her feel like she was stretched out for the plucking. He had taken off his helmet, breathing perfectly fine through his nose, and Rey was bewildered for a moment. His features weren't exactly new to her. Behind the mask was not the marred face of a vicious creature. It was a long face with narrow streaks of pain and exhaustion. Black hair encased the face and large, dark eyes gazed at her with the intent of conveying threat. But Rey didn't buy any of it. Something about him was bothersome, but his _darkness_ wasn't it.

He looked different from what the reports had said at Niima outpost. So much so that Rey wasn't even sure he was the infamous Kylo Ren. She had wrought her bits from every other scavenger who had tried to trick her, and then get some. She knew _scum_ when she saw it. Jakku was no place to come looking for tenderness. And growing up there had made Rey strong, defiant, self-reliant, even callous at times. In a way, she was more than ready to meet him. And now this. Rey was perplexed.

This man, a shochet who had killed _thousands_ and now wanted to torture her in order to make her squeal, looked forlorn. It made her a little ashamed of herself, like she was prying into someone's most private concerns. Yet, in spite of her reasoning, she could see in his mind how he longed for some kind of touch, of interaction. His stare conveyed something she was sure he didn't want _her_ to know. _She_ couldn't fully explain it to herself, but it was a certainty. Yes, she knew where the droid was and she knew about the map. Sort of. But Kylo Ren was after her not for the map alone. She knew it, her gut told her so. And now she was constrained. Had she been untied, she would have lunged into his arms. It would have made the object of defeating him so much easier.

_Immature_

How it had happened he did not know. Ren hated it when a reason – however inconsequential – eluded him. He physically hated it. Yet, working so closely with a leech like Hux, he had come to play his cards close to the vest. Whenever Kylo Ren didn't know anything that he was supposed to know, he made damn sure no one was in the least suspicious. He pretended sometimes to care for the minutiae of Hux's operations with his troops, just to see what made the General tick. It assured him of the boundaries of deceit, so that he would never overstep it.

It would never have occurred to Kylo Ren to offend General Hux for any minor or insignificant detail. Not because he respected the man, or even the rank he carried before him. Respect had nothing to do with it. Ren just didn't waste energy – he simply didn't do it. Ren scolded himself every time he did not pay very close attention to his demeanor around Hux – only admitting himself to vent his anger with the annoying General in his private chambers. It meant that equipment frequently went up in flames, but that was a small price to pay, Ren believed. And it was of no concern now.

The question to attend to was rather: How in all the worlds could he have been _unaware_ of their connection? A connection, he now admitted to himself, that was as manifest as the physical body of hers that had _just_ been placed in front of him. He had been distracted. It was the only explanation he could come up with. Rey affected him, and he was more than just a little alarmed. She – the _scavenger_ – having this kind power over him should make him stomp in wild disbelief. Yet, all it did was confirm what he had long known to be true.

Kylo Ren hadn't trusted himself with the delicate, yet strong-willed person in front of him. He had secretly scolded himself for his weakness. He had a task to perform. Going back to the probing in his mind, Kylo Ren began to investigate for his mistake. He had, somewhat smugly, set off to probe Rey's mind. Easy. Matter-of-fact in style and meticulous in precision, he had started off slowly. Full force would not be necessary, after all, as she was just a scavenger, and he was Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren. And even for Kylo Ren, violence could be gratuitous. He was, in his effectiveness, a civilized machine. His first attempts, however, didn't yield much. In fact, she gave him nothing. Only high walls and barriers. Her mind was as firmly guarded as her muscles held that body upright. Ren was distracted for a second, but collected himself. He wanted the map. And Kylo Ren would get what he wanted. He probed again, pushing harder this time. Being less conciliatory and more aggressive this time around. He recollected with complacency, and some delight, how Rey had finally begun to suffer under his assault.

Her face was showered in deep frowns of agony. Her eyes closed in heated pain, as his leather-gloved hand hovered over her face, almost being able to touch her sweaty beads. Still, she would not budge. He could see her agony, could feel it and touch it in his mind. It was white-hot, almost fiercely blue. She screamed in her head – yet, she did not give in. Kylo Ren had been impressed, in spite of himself. He had had to stop for a small second to recuperate, and to refocus his powers. It bewildered him still how his highly skilled techniques and utter natural talent could have failed with any ordinary scavenger.

Even at the time, however, Ren had known that he would have to correct himself at some point. She was no ordinary scavenger. Even scavenging was only an occupation, it was not her. She was _much_ more. Ren had sworn to himself never to tell anyone how hard it had really been to retrieve the information from her. He had mused on her dingy existence a little longer, and there – in between the involuntary flashes of pity and disgust – there must have been a way.

Hunkered down in between the pipes of the vast ship, Rey couldn't help but remember what had just happened back in that holding cell. She recalled the aura of his gloved hand over her face, like thick black oil canvassing her atmosphere. She remembered how she had twitched, anticipating another massive assault. The details of his face had given away the enormous efforts he had to put up. Rey had wondered why it was so hard for him. Watching him made her speculate, and while she watched him closely, his guard had apparently become frayed. Almost automatically, Rey had latched onto a rope in his mind, surveying his brown, misty eyes. Unbeknownst to Kylo Ren, his very soul did not obey the commands of Kylo Ren.

Rey was able to catch on to this, pulling her smarting arms along the strand of hope that she had made out, in spite of him. Scavenging a desert planet had left her with the skills to make the most of almost nothing. Never would she have believed that it would come in handy in the way it did now. Rey knew how to jump on the littlest of chances. And she sensed that he didn't even know. Within an instant, she was in his mind, and he was stunned, immovable. She saw, felt, and heard only rumbling fear, an immersing, uncontrollable, destabilizing fear. Fear of failing to protect his heart from disappointment. And in that way, better than anyone, Rey understood him.

For now, his guard needed to come up again. She had been plowing way too close to the cotton. Next time he saw the Supreme Leader, he _had_ to be able to report success. A lot was at stake. And to himself, he silently muttered that the sooner the scavenger was dealt with, the better for him. He had no need for someone else to see cracks in his veneer, especially not a prisoner of the First Order. Few things made Kylo Ren unmistakably what he was. One of them was the ability to be completely indifferent to the needs of other people. It was what made him _effective_.

Leaning against the wall and being surrounded by coils of aluminum, Rey remembered the insides of his mind with perfect clarity. It was not a wreckage or any sort of dark, unknown place. It was a cold, insipid palace, uninviting, tall and grandiose, with obscure windows that were flanked by dark velvet curtains. The somber walls had radiated of fear, a fear that was under strict orders never to be made public. _Strict_ orders. But to Rey, they were as evident as a map of all the systems. She knew instinctively her way around. Delicacy guided her through his internal dimension. She would make him sorry yet.

When sweat began to tear from him in light streaks, Rey could tell that it was time for the kill. And what she saw scared her. Rey could clearly see why he wouldn't take what he wanted, recklessly, as he had previously suggested, and why he _would_ eventually budge to her. What he had was not a demand. It was an offering. For all his vindictive actions, he didn't know how to shield from her his most basic _need_. He was desperate for power, because power was the only way to protect his biggest flaw – weakness.

How in Sarlacc's name had that happened? How was he – Master of the Knights of Ren – suddenly unwilling to even think about his power? How was it possible that a scavenger from that desert planet Jakku got _him_ to rethink his words? Something was greatly amiss here. At first he had felt sorry for her. But however it had happened, somehow this temporary pity had grown into something of a more permanent distraction. She had entered his own mind with an alacrity that made it seem almost too easy for her, and with a nonchalance that spoke to him of her immense, yet untapped power. Yes, he had been unable to stop it. How should he? The only person ever to probe his mind would be Supreme Leader Snoke, and that would have been nimbly done, without Ren noticing, although he was catching on to his Master by now. But the scavenger was a nobody and she had to be made to understand that. Kylo Ren knew that she was beginning to understand what those powers naturally offered her: dominance.

In spite of himself, he was smitten with the feisty little brat that actually had the guts to give _him_ a rough time. He needed that. Yes, he had been too complacent. He had let his guard down. And now it would come to order again. He gritted his teeth, finally gripping his thoughts. In all probability, for all the dirt and sand and coarse manners, the girl had been too attractive to resist. She had made him slip, and for _that_ she was going to pay. She was also going to pay for getting away from Starkiller base with that defecting scum, FN-2187. He would be a problem to deal with later, and with the meticulous precision that Kylo Ren applied to all of his missions. But it would be difficult for him, because he hated the guy's guts. He was a traitor to the First Order, for Sarlacc's sake, but he also endangered Kylo Ren's very own personal interests.


	2. Vespertine

_Cocoon_

What had just happened in that holding cell, Rey could not comprehend. But a realization had entered her bones almost as soon as their eyes had met. He was hers. She refused, and protested it in her heart, and kicked at it with all her might. But she knew it, and so did he. Kylo Ren knew who she was waiting for, because he knew who she was. And she was determined to get it out of him. The air in her lungs was suddenly cloyed with steam and salt, as if it were unfit to breathe. She had to leave the ditch with all the pipes and find her way to the cargo hold. The only way out was as a stowaway. Before moving on, she allowed herself one last moment of repose. Exhaustion made its way through her nerve system. Rey was tired, and yet anxious for something that went beyond food, or survival, or even Jakku.

The Supreme Leader was wise, as all conniving was wise, and he sensed that Kylo Ren didn't trust him. Snoke knew that the light often attracted Kylo Ren, even attacked him in unforeseen moments. Seeing Kylo suffer from this constant friction between merciless ambition and inevitable failure amused him. He often derided the young man for the tunnel vision he himself had carefully developed in his young apprentice, by long years of relative social seclusion and proximal abandonment. Kylo Ren had no other approach to fall back to, and his motives were informed solely by the discontent and ignorance of other people's lives and feelings. Snoke was entertained by him, yet he didn't do himself the disservice to underestimate his apprentice. He still knew where Kylo Ren came from. And he knew enough of his own powers and how they had worked on the boy. He knew that Kylo Ren understood power, and that he couldn't yield even half of it if he were to join the mob of suicide missionaries and hopeless romantics that called themselves the Resistance. Quite ridiculous. Yet, the Supreme Leader was unsettled by the events. Snoke knew that Kylo Ren had never evolved from the neglected, lonely child. He was stuck in limbo, as an emotional teenager, with a high-strung temper and deadly weaponry. He knew that Kylo Ren's anxious zeal to get what he _thought_ he needed out of the girl was necessary for the success of the mission, but it also bore the greatest danger of ultimate failure.

Snoke was pleased to see the effects the girl had on Kylo Ren. Yes, she would make him understand what regret was. And the bitterness in his heart would seep out of his body and enclose him entirely, make him completely the apostle of the Dark Side. Just like his grandfather. And he would not suffer the inflection of Darth Vader, because the scavenger would never _love_ Kylo Ren. Redeem him, yes. But never love him. His darkness was too profound for that. But here, the Supreme Leader had misjudged the young woman whose fate he had designed almost lightheartedly. Kylo Ren, he mused, would have to learn to live, on top of all other deprivations, with a broken heart and disappointed hopes. And it would be the death of him. And failing to win her would make him bitter, and increase his eagerness to revenge himself on her. He would bring the girl to Snoke.

When the ground shook and a chasm of icy rock and hot lava separated them, Kylo Ren's unconscious mind had already understood what his heart would not yet fully grasp. Rey was not a simple scavenger from a rear desert planet. For all her youth and inexperience, not even _being_ a Jedi, she was yet the most powerful Force user he had ever seen. But who trained her? It could only be Luke, but she didn't know where he was, right? If he hadn't sustained that injury from the fuzzball that his father had loved so much, he would have succeeded, and he would have killed that snitching Storm Trooper right then and there. The fact that both of them escaped – and with the help of Chewbacca – angered him beyond all sense. And yet, Kylo Ren was a Master of the Knights of Ren. He knew how to be composed when he needed to be. He had to remember his strategy. That was the material point.

He _had _to turn this around, and Kylo Ren quickly came up with a new plan. He would be more successful this time, because he would let her find the bread crumbs in his mind. He would make the girl feel right about everything, returning to the fold of the Resistance, and _still_ come back to find _him. _But it had to be done fast. Once his mother got her hands on Rey, he knew it could all come to nothing. As much as Kylo Ren hated his mother, he also knew how she thought. She would not stop at anything, or anyone. In that respect at least, he muttered under his breath, they were similar. Kylo Ren had to make sure the girl had enough time to think it all over and be right back where he wanted her. Near him. Patience, however, was not his strong suit, and they were running out of time. Bit of work ahead, he knew. But he also knew he could not face the Supreme Leader without results again. As a person, Kylo Ren was prone to irascible behavior. As a man, he was not taking too well to garrulous prose. As a predator, he knew, he was defenseless against another.

Back at the Resistance base, Rey was questioned and goggled at like a happy diversion from a bleak prospect. To her own bewilderment, she was thanked for doing absolutely nothing, except getting Finn severely injured, and save her own skin. They didn't seem to mind, and rather wanted to hear stories about how she had escaped the First Order, while Rey knew that the real reason could never be shared. They wanted to hear how she fought the creature in the mask, and how she had escaped him.

Rey couldn't tell them how and why she had actually let him live. She could always say that the earth broke them apart, but Rey knew it to be only partly the truth. She understood that the commitment to his murder would make it impossible for her to stay who she was. And she still didn't really know who she was. She couldn't afford to lose the hope that some day, she might be worthy of someone coming for her. When Maz Kanata had said that whomever she was waiting for on Jakku would never come back, Rey had known it to be true. She knew it, without any words, to be true. She wasn't ready to discuss this with anyone. Not even the General. It was hard enough to see her mourn the death of Han Solo. How indeed was she to tell the grieving General that she started to feel a nascent connection to the monster who killed her husband, and who was incidentally still her son?

At the Resistance base, Rey was also reunited with Finn, the former Storm Trooper who had fought so bravely against Kylo Ren in the forest. And though she was glad to see him, and see him comparatively well after the induced coma, he was evidently elated to see her, and it was not a mutual feeling. Rey had entertained the thought of Finn and herself for a brief moment. He'd been on their side, he had defected from the First Order on principle, and now he was ready to die for a good cause. He was so much what Rey had always missed; a companion, a friend, someone who would care for her the way she cared for them. But it wasn't enough, now. Something else had happened to her that wasn't part of her knowledge. She felt stupid for it, but she was hoping every day that the knock on the door that greeted her every morning was someone else, a different entity. It scared her, but she also laughed at herself. Whatever it was, it wasn't logical. Kylo Ren would never turn to the light and be one of them. If his own parents were not reason enough to stop him from wreaking havoc, it was a hopeless case for her to try. But that was not what her innermost thoughts and wishes were conspiring to.

Finn was there every day. He was attentive, and kind, and pleased to have her back. But unlike before, he was no longer easy around her. And his thoughts were not an enigma to Rey. She was worried. What if he found out? He would be disappointed, but he would also scold her for jeopardizing the Resistance. At night, alone in her cabin, Rey rifled through her brain for an indication that who she really wanted to come back was Ben Solo, the lost kid, the man behind the mask. But even the idea wouldn't be fully supported by what she felt. Something inside her illuminated the path to yet a different man. A man who had called out to her, who had known her name from before. Her thoughts and dreams were no longer all encompassed by someone coming to pick her up from Jakku. Her dreams and nightmares – they had changed.

The idea of setting off to find Luke Skywalker in his hideout and ask him to come back and join the Resistance was therefore a welcome idea. Something inside her needed that quest, but also to get away from the Resistance. Every night, the sound of something calling her became louder and louder. It was no longer her own wistful sound, crying for her parents to "Come back!" This time, it was someone else calling _her_ name. Only it was not so much a voice as it was a breeze crawling into the crevices of her bones. She had to find out where Luke was. But she also had to find out what that place was, and whether it was Kylo Ren who called her to it. Saying Goodbye to the General felt more like a farewell. She hadn't been terribly close with her, but she felt a connection with her, having witnessed the gruesome death of her husband, and being, ever so slightly, in danger of getting too close to her son.

When she reached the remote island of Ahch-To, the lush greenery in between black slates of granite, against the vastness of the dark blue sea and the backdrop of icy skies, made her eyes hurt. It was bewildering, it was rough, it was beautiful. And there he was, the legend. Cloaked in damp linen of sand colors she recognized from her own world. For a minute, Rey remembered that Luke was originally from a desert planet as well. She could understand why he chose this spot for his seclusion. Although, after traveling through the galaxy for quite some time now, Rey sometimes missed the barren surroundings of Jakku. At least she always knew who was coming her way, because she could see them for miles. And however formal Rey might have anticipated her meeting with the most famous Jedi in all the worlds to be, nothing could prepare her for his coldness, rudeness, and harsh treatment of her.

He would tell her to leave the island, he would ask her questions about why she was there, and he would do awkward stuff with weird-looking creatures during the day. Anything to get away from Rey. At first, it had bothered her for her own sake. After a few days, however, her amazement turned into annoyance. Rey found he had no inclination whatsoever to come and rescue his own sister. Little that she knew about the Skywalker family, she had believed that they were extremely close. What she witnessed in him now was pitiable. Rey felt shame, but also a nagging suspicion that his seclusion – however self-induced – had not been entirely voluntary.

It had taken all of Rey's goodwill and persistence to finally get Luke to agree to train her. And as she stood under the Falcon to touch the water coming from the sky, giddy with excitement and fueled with hope, she was stopped cold with an apparition. A screen opened up in front of her eyes. It was not the first time this had happened, too. It had started with an odd feeling in her bones, like some kind of vision, seeing things that aren't quite there yet. Rey observed the chills down her spine with deliberation, as dark metal, glass and towering machines foreboded another meeting with Kylo Ren. She could not see him yet, but her skin began to tingle, and the hair at the back of her neck stoop up. Like someone was _approaching_ her, while sneaking up behind her, and yet, materializing in front of her. She was unnerved by this breach of perspective. Only he could do it, and she didn't know why. The massive body of Kylo Ren barely acknowledged her presence this time. At first, he had seemed bewildered, almost excited, asking her how she did it. Rey had thought it best not to respond to it. Instinct told her not to admit anything that she didn't have to deny.

Seeing him this time made her feel proud that she beat him to the task of finding Luke. It came to her in some fashion or other that he already knew all this. His voice sounded off the metal of his ship, yet he couldn't see where she was. He only felt an aching in his chest, and something telling him that Rey had just touched something for the first time. The next time he appeared in front of her, Rey believed he wanted to make her uneasy. His bare chest and the excessive wound that she had inflicted on him the last time they met, made her angry and bitter. She remembered why they had fought. Han Solo. He had killed his father. Just like that. Woefully, she demanded an explanation, knowing full well that he wouldn't give it to her, especially not now. And she grew violent and scornful towards the monster on the other side of that damned screen.

Training with Luke had made her painfully aware that what was calling her to this island all along was indeed not Luke, nor even the cause of the Resistance. It was something else, something she didn't yet understand. That dark place that kept on calling her, the soothing cold, the freshness of water and the damp layers of healing – it was somewhere on this island. Coming here gave her more questions than answers, but she knew she was here for a reason. All she could see – could _feel_, even – was dark and dismal, a deluge. It was one of the most foreign sensations she could imagine. And yet, it made her feel more at home than Jakku ever had. Her truth was about to be revealed to her. But her vision was still blocked. Her heart was still clogged. She needed Kylo Ren to make her see it, to make her feel it. Without him, her quest would never be over. He had touched her, only to leave the specific place under her skin raw and open, vulnerable to attack. She knew in her heart that meeting him again would bring her closer to devastation, make her even more unsettled, and less sure of herself. And yet, day and night, every minute of every hour, the fibers in her body prepared to go anyway.

When they finally touched hands through this force field, Rey suddenly understood what she had been too afraid to admit. Luke's was not a seclusion based on failure to teach his nephew the Jedi ways. It was a seclusion based on guilt. Rey understood that he wasn't coming back with her, because he was ashamed. Kylo Ren had told her so, in one of their inexplicable forced communications. And she had not believed a word the murderous snake had said. But gradually, in time and like the water running down the rock, like the fire licking its oxygen from the damp air of a remote island, she had come to realize that she was being lied to, but not by the Master of the Knights of Ren.

Kylo Ren was so close to his goal. She had come to him. She had taken the risk, she _had_ to see him. No doubt against the advice of every single loon in the Resistance, especially Luke Skywalker – and she had done it still. Kylo Ren could almost feel his chest burst open, there was not enough room in him for the anticipation of everything he had waited and longed for. But it was necessary to keep up appearances, because Snoke was waiting for her. The Supreme Leader had sensed that she was coming and had sent his young and evidently prepared apprentice to meet her.

There had been an awakening in the Force. Kylo Ren was growing more powerful every day, calling the light side to life with it. Snoke had felt it with silent, yet tangible alarm. If he didn't rein the boy in now, there would be no way to steer his future. The Force was pushing toward compensation. Adjustment. Reparation. That could not be. He had to make her powers his, by all means, and at all costs. The only way to do that was to merge them with the powers of Kylo Ren. It was the Supreme Leader who understood what Rey had no idea of. He could see as plain as day that her biggest threat was not going to be defending herself against him, but to _refuse_ the one person in all the galaxies that made her feel that she belonged. He also saw with complacency that Kylo Ren was successfully swayed by the idea that killing his own father had been the making of his darkness. Snoke chuckled to himself when he thought of the surprise he had in store for his disciple.

When Rey reached the Supremacy, Kylo Ren gave the appearance of utter nonchalance. It was a necessary precaution. He couldn't have the Supreme Leader suspect him of having feelings for her _again_. He even enjoyed seeing Rey fluttered and disheartened at the cold greeting. Everything going according to plan. He shoved her into the elevator, where she turned around instantly and began talking about making this right, helping him leave the First Order. She went on about how she saw his future. For a minute, Kylo Ren didn't know whether to laugh or wince at this. Her unshakable conviction that he could be saved, the delight in her eyes when she spoke to him, and her breath gently brushing his cheeks, were almost too much for him. He wanted to ridicule her, but didn't have the heart for it. Every sense of superiority had left him, while he stood there watching the light bounce of the features of her soft cheeks. Would she finally join him? Was it time to close in on his long-hatched scheme? While he allowed himself the momentary joy of watching her, the truth hit him with the weight of a Dreadnought.

How in all the systems had a tactical maneuver this obvious by the Supreme Leader eluded him for so long? Kylo Ren was ashamed of himself. In painful slowness, it dawned on Kylo Ren that while killing his own father had been to test his resolve, his true assessment of worthiness to the Supreme Leader would be to handle something that his father never was: his equal.

_Harm of Will_

Rey couldn't really remember what had happened after the explosion in the throne room, after the light saber had broken into pieces. She knew she had taken the escape craft on the Supremacy and got away as fast as she could, before Kylo Ren had had a chance to come to his senses. She recalled being in the throne room with him, after they had defeated the Praetorian Guards. She also recalled him asking her to join him in ruling the Galaxy. Apart from that, she remembered nothing, and certainly not how she had gotten back to the Resistance.

But now that she was here, Rey's mind was consistently absent. Her mind wandered off to waterfalls between gigantic black hills, ornamented by greenery and heavy skies. In these daydreams, she could _feel _her legs being surrounded by dark blue and thick waves of cool liquid. They were like a soothing blanket, encasing her tattered and worn body, and they suggested deep cleansing, but also narrow degrees of enclosure. They suggested a peaceful rendition, a quiet submission, into an unknown darkness. A sudden burst of reminded Rey that she had known these dreams from before. They weren't dreams back then, in the forest. They were something like apparitions, and then he would show up.

Something inside her had practically _announced_ him. How did he do that? It frightened her that he could present himself to her like that, be part of her dreams, of her visions, and that he could comment on her thoughts and feelings. Rey was terrified, much more than she was on Ahch-To. And she could feel his emotions just as she knew he was penetrating hers. His physical presence suggested command, power and purpose. But she could sense that at his core, there was great instability, a shimmying in his cells. He didn't say anything – at least nothing that she could hear. But he was present. Very present. She shivered involuntarily. In her dreams, Rey could _feel_ the moving air, the hush of a dimmed voice, barely audible and rather traceable, against the roaring thunder of the waterfall. In spite of herself, she felt her body quiver, as he softly spoke her name. She already feared the return of this dream. And yet, it didn't appear to be a dream. It confused her, and made her uncomfortable during the day.

As much as she hated it, Finn was witness to Rey's turmoil. It made him stagger in his rage, but it also rendered him helpless. He had a mixture of emotions that would have warranted an angry outburst, or at least some form of sharing. But he refrained. She was back, but something about her made him feel that she was bucked from the rest of them. Something had changed in her. Like her identity code had been messed with. He was unsettled at first, but became more agitated. Her demeanor struck him as different, unknown. Even untrustworthy. Like she was tainted. Finn suddenly had no desire to open up to her about the many things he had thought about during her absence, about his feelings when she was in the same room. He no longer wanted to tell her that he could even be as mad as hell, and still not stop wanting her for a single second. Rey was so distant to him now. He held out for as long as he could, but after observing her for weeks, being languidly cramped into a corner window and staring into the black beyond, he finally gave in and confronted her. By pure instinct, Rey denied any accusation that she had feelings for the monster, because he so clearly was a monster. But like any man in love, Finn knew how to gauge the power of his rival very well. His acuteness, fueled by justly placed jealousy, wouldn't let her get away with it. Rey didn't feel comfortable being marked out as the victim of Kylo Ren. It felt false. She didn't have the heart to tell Finn what he so desperately wanted her to say, and at the same time, wouldn't want to know.

"You do" he said. "You have feelings for him, for this creature. He killed Solo, and who knows how many other innocent souls. You've _seen_ him do it!" His face went red with shame and vexation, and in her steely, guarded look, he could already see the futility of it all. Finn wanted to muster the courage to be indignant, lest she should see how disappointed he was that another man was preferred.

"But he's tall and powerful and you couldn't _resist_ it." He immediately regretted having implied so much in his last words. He didn't want his jealousy so palpably to overshadow the just cause of his grievance.

The insinuation of physical contact hadn't escaped Rey, either. However, something inside her kept her steady and calm. A new power she knew she'd only just met. She reflected the charge with deceitful honesty.

"The truth is, we're the same, he and I," she almost whispered. "We're both lonely."

Finn was stunned. It hadn't occurred to him that she would now readily concede after having denied it only seconds before. And with such a bogey argument. What was more, being assigned the new role of her confidant didn't sit well with him. It was enough of a ploy to get him off her back, however. He took the bait. As expected, he was furious. He chastised her, not thinking for a moment that what Rey meant – and what she actually _did_ have in common with Kylo Ren – could be anything other than a similar upbringing.

Rey grew more confident, while also feeling guilty for deceiving a friend, a truly good friend. It made her wretched to see him dumbfounded, and hurt, and angry at her. But it was necessary.

"Just because he's a villain, doesn't mean I'm innocent", she said, almost with a smile, while Finn was just about to leave the room. Her face was turned toward the huge window, mirroring her features sharply against the darkness outside. Finn was livid by now. He knew the First Order, understood it in a way that nobody else in the damn Resistance ever could. He knew persuasion. He knew seduction. He turned around.

"You know what? I think that's bullcrap!" He hissed. "You're _nothing_ like him. He's just using you to get back at his parents. And you're letting him!"

Rey didn't respond.

"And the best part is," Finn went on, "really the best part is that you think you're doing this little charade here for _me_. To protect my feelings. So that I wouldn't be hurt by something like 'Finn, I like you, but you're more like a brother to me'."

And with that, he mock-patted her head, not knowing that this gesture stuck in Rey's craw ever since she was little.

"Don't do me any favors, Rey? I know my way around. I'm not here to be cast aside, by no one. I came here to leave the First Order behind. To _destroy_ it, not to help it. And if you don't want to be part of it, _fine_."

Rey had gotten up to deflect the patting motion, but had since settled down again. It was obvious to her that he didn't want her too near. Moments went by before she even dared to show her face, so that he might hear her.

"You know what I've found out on this crazy journey? I've found out that waiting for my family to come back isn't what is going to kill me. Unkar Plutt and his gang of marauders aren't what's going to kill me. Sand storms aren't. And the scanty life of a scavenger on Jakku isn't. Loneliness is."

Finn didn't react to this. He knew loneliness. He had known it all his life. And he knew that she was right. Rey was pained to see that she was in the process of losing a true friend, one she had just got and was so grateful for. Tears formed around the corners of her eyes. She could see in his face that whatever else she was going to say, he had hardened himself against her. His anger had mingled with disappointment and a toxic oil was now enveloping his lungs. All that he could do was lift his head and see that she was fighting back tears. But it didn't move him. Never in his life would Finn have imagined that he could see Rey cry and not want to _try_ anything in the worlds to stop it. Now that the moment was here, Finn felt nothing. He didn't want to move an inch toward her. He even contemplated moving further away, or leaving the room now. Rey, in all her sorrow, seemed in great danger of setting fire to the thick oil that had engulfed his soul by now. He wanted out of there, and quick. There was, after all, nothing left to say.

_Undo_

Rey woke up with a whirring sound in her ears. Like a tiny insect had willed her to be awake. She found herself standing in a pond with a thunderous waterfall, amid cold and slithering black stones. And yet, in spite of these surroundings, Rey felt warm and nourished inside. A feeling she had never known before. Where was she? How did she even get here? There was nothing green or vegetative at the base – she knew that much. It must be in her dreams. She was in one of those dreams again, right? Right? It dawned on her. Quite habitual, not sudden at all. Something told her that this was no memory. It wasn't a dream. It was happening.

Minutes passed before Rey could actually hear anything other than her own raging thoughts. There was another voice, and it was familiar. The metallic clang that she had so gotten used to was gone. Now it was soft. It spoke her name. Not as a question, more like a plea. Simple as that, he was there, crossing the distance in the pond toward her. He wore a simple black shirt and his black pants, and he waded through the liquid as if through air. It was the indelible impression of his ease and familiarity with an element so little known to Rey as water that made her no longer doubt that he was actually there. That _she_ was actually there. He looked down, barely moving now. Like his gaze needed time to adjust. Finally, he raised his head. His eyes instantly locked with hers, and Rey felt the trappings of his gaze. Rey had expected the stare to be that of a predator, observing his prey right before deciding to devour it. As assertive and commanding as his voice wanted to sound, Rey understood that Kylo Ren, in this moment, did _not_ speak to his victim.

The next clear thought in her head was that of him standing behind her, his dark and moist waves of raven hair caressing her shoulders, and the sound of his dark voice in her ear, echoing his turmoil. Her own voice drooped into mere whimpering at the effect of this closeness, this intimacy. Rey bid her lips in silent agony. The thought of him being extremely dangerous didn't leave her for a single second. It was instinct. To her, everything about him was damn near instinctive. He had turned around to face her, the red scar beaming across his face. She was pained to look at it, but also pleased to see it so prominently distorting his long face. It made his pleading less affluent and more raw. He had no idea of letting her go. And she knew that he wasn't at all willing to accept any of her dodges anymore. He stared at her body, his face in awe. Like he was staring at a gleaming object.

Ren was enthralled. He couldn't help but stare at the radiating shoulders, the anxious expression on her face, the moist forming drops on her lower lip. Nothing had prepared him for this, not even his own imagination. He had tried to tell himself that the scavenger had not taken his heart. He would successfully talk himself out of it, the way he had talked himself into it in a fanciful moment. She was nimble, but she wasn't an expert. He was, damn it. Rey would finally understand, and she would let her mind float from her. The Force would do that to her, he knew. It would make her abdicate her own will, making it over, not to another individual like him, but to the Force itself. The only universal power, and the only one that didn't allow for abstention. It was only her own choice to decide to live with the Force, or to die at the hands of it. Rey rummaged like crazy through her mind, desperate for a thought of her own. He must have followed her on the Falcon to the Resistance. And he had made himself appear in her _dreams_, so she would be suspicious of him actually being at the base. And he had brought her to this dark and green place in her dreams, trying to make her _understand_ something.

As his lips got close to her cheeks, and she heard his suddenly brittle and somber voice, another idea struck her. His words were constrained, as if laced with lust. He wasn't here for battle. He had had enough of it. What he _wanted_, and what his mind tried to conceal – in a high-minded parade of powerful exertion – his body could not. His voice, his very breath, spoke to her of surrender.

"Why is the Force connecting us, you and I?" He sounded as if he would really like an answer to that. For the first time since meeting him, she began to believe that he really didn't know why. His words even seemed to imply that he thought her powerful enough to do it, and that she was trying to _reel_ him in. He tried to touch her arms, succeeding just barely. While feeling his hand brush up on the hair of her neck, Rey wanted to refuse the intimacy, and the blaze that his touch ignited in her. Yet, it became hard to stop something that obviously gave him pleasure and, perhaps in spite of herself, made her body react _likewise_. She wanted to hate, to loathe, to refuse. And she could do nothing. And it made what was happening to her so much harder to understand. It was irrational, and it was dangerous. Rey was afraid of dangerous. Where she lived, danger was real. It meant live-or-die decisions within seconds, and praying you come out on the winning side of an argument. Rey's taste for adventure was spent. She had known too much strenuous opposition all her life to find any charm in being pushed to her limit. And yet, while thinking all this, she still stood firm in the water, hearing him plea.

Rey finally began to understand where he came from. His was not an accidental vanity. It had been carefully crafted by two strongly opposing forces. His mother's indulgence and pride had been gone unchecked for too long. His father's recalcitrant mannerism had been intended as a counterbalance, for fear of spoiling the child with excessive tenderness. But it really had taken all the focus out of Ben's upbringing. The boy had not thrived in this stress field of expectation and letdown. All he learned was that excessive force brought him to his goal, no matter how impertinent his demands were. He had been left to himself too early and too thoroughly. Just like herself.

Kylo Ren now spoke. It was a feeble voice, and the sound was muffled. "You hide every time you enjoy a feeling. Why?" His brown eyes pierced into hers. It was a sharp pain, not warm or mellow. It was direct and it was threatening.

"How do you know?" She asked. It was, in fact, the only thing she could think of. Even minutes later, nothing more precise or evasive had come up. She felt suddenly paralyzed by a sudden conviction.

Rey didn't understand the trauma that had been inflicted upon her when her parents left her to shift for herself on Jakku. A young mind like hers was without options. She had to believe that she had done something wrong and needed to repent, so she would be accepted back into her family. It had never occurred to her that cutting into the wall near her bedside for the ten-thousandth time was less painful than asking the question why. Rey experienced every day like a task, in which she was contributing her loyal part to a greater scheme. Which ultimately meant that she would prove herself worthy to be picked up again.

Kylo Ren had only a vague idea that Rey was no ordinary scavenger from Jakku, but he had no concept of the greater scheme. He only knew that he wanted to be near her, find out what her thoughts were and why she would not surrender to him. And now, as his third attempt to touch her had gone awry, he found out, to his great surprise and dismay, that had to work at his resolve. He sighed inwardly, and put his mind back to work. He hadn't been trained to give in this easily. What was it she craved most? Security? No, not that. Strength? She knew she had it. What, then? He went back behind her, letting his strong chest provide support. And with it came instant realization. That's what she wanted. To be able to let go. He could finally feel the exhaustion, the tremor in her limbs and the incredible fatigue of her mind. Her entire being was aching for respite.

Standing behind her in the alcove, knee-deep in the water of the pond, starting to shiver from cold, he slumped, and let his body curve up hers. Now he would deal his final blow. It was on her back that Kylo Ren could feel her loneliness the most. One didn't meet loneliness face to face, he knew. It came from behind and crept up into the chest. But it would always stay where the port of entrance was – making sure a lonely being knew there was nothing behind them but emptiness.

"Just say it." His voice was a tickle on her earlobe and the sound of it pierced right into her chest, leaving an indelible scar of malicious delight. He understood his own powers well enough to know that she wouldn't say it, even if his face had been turned toward hers. The Force was strong with her, but not yet gauged enough to outmaneuver the masterful precision of Kylo Ren. She was afraid of what he might do. Even if his spirit was, by nature, docile and recipient. He was, after all, well-trained, and a strong natural predator, because he could read his victims, and he could _shape_ their realities. "Say it", he repeated. "Just say No."

And while he signaled his readiness for retreat, all his sensors went into attack mode. He was a predator and had carefully planned this event. He had arranged his thoughts, strategically, with minimal attrition and to maximum effect. His pluck was that of a trained soldier. And now she was before him. Vulnerable, yet feisty and fierce. As much as he knew that he should be appalled by it, he still enjoyed the spunk, being talked back at. He could have her, he knew. Just now, he could have her. But the thought of it blocked as soon as it started to take hold. With fortitude and precision, her own mind forced its way into his again and she stared him down with a decided _No_, too heavy and unconquerable for him to be able to resist it further. _No_, her mind spoke, as her stern eyes were fixed on his. _Not now, not ever. You will not have me, not for the dark side, and especially not for yourself. I loathe you._

It stopped Ren cold in his tracks. Being disliked wasn't new to him, not even universally despised. But to be loathed for who he was by the one person who was supposed to want him, that actually threw him off. The scene he had carefully written in his mind had gone out of the window. He had planned to take pity on her, in the end. Breaking her will just enough to get his way. Now it seemed as if Rey was setting up the rules of the game all over again. Kylo Ren was alarmed, and irritated. He wasn't used to being measured by a girl and to be found wanting. Rey felt his bewilderment, and had it been under any other circumstance, she could have been amused by it. What was he even thinking? Then she remembered what she had seen in the holding cell, being his captive and probing his mind, by accident more than by design, but nonetheless. She remembered clearly, and Kylo Ren saw it, with horror. So, he opted out. And just like that, her tender, fragile, yet fierce and resourceful personality had imploded the one – his only – wish. He backed off, because he knew he couldn't handle the rejection that awaited him, even if it was for the wrong reasons. With anyone else, he would have gone through. With her, he couldn't do it. He lacked the skills, the knowledge, the intuition. What he really wanted was, at this point in time, dark and inconclusive. Before him was a narrow print of a love that had eluded him for so long he had stopped looking for signs.

Apart from his reasoning, and heavily fueled by his pride and his vanity as Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, he had another motive to let her win this round. If she grew more powerful every day, he might not live to see his next attempt. An attempt that was _not_ allowed to fail. He certainly wouldn't let Rey gain too much power over him. He hated that Rey did in fact have a power over him that left him, at times, speechless even in the privacy of his own chambers. He had no words for this kind of distraction. His mind, his thoughts, his very being was with her more often than not. It made no difference if he slept or was awake – she was constantly on his mind. Kylo Ren had held her on the green planet not to give her another chance. He held her there to make his own destiny unfold at long last. This time, he wasn't going to leave it up to the Force bond to make her come around. She couldn't be trusted that way. Hell, _he_ couldn't be trusted around her, as it was. Everything that he had imagined to happen in the alcove, when he had forced her to bathe in the pond, hoping that she would enjoy the bounty of water, hadn't come to pass. And the reason for that was his own incompetence. To someone like Kylo Ren, this was, of course unacceptable. What he needed to do now was to make her see that she had no other choice but to join him. She had to understand what he knew. What he _saw_. When they had parted last time, in the salt mine on Crait, he let his guard down and his face show the sorrow and the pain that her leaving had inflicted on him. Rey could sense the depth of his pain when she closed the door of the Millennium Falcon on him. And as much as it hurt the Supreme Leader Ren that she didn't even think twice about him, he had to admit that he was impressed by her. For the first time in his life, he felt miserable and at the same time, had no desire to maim, destroy or scorch anything or anyone. He was devastated. Knowing that she was still holding on, that she still didn't believe. Didn't see. He would have to _force_ her let go of what she couldn't hold on to.


	3. Medúlla

_Pleasure Is All Mine_

Rey woke up in a holding cell once again. This time, she coiled up on a cot, and the walls enclosing her were made of something like glass. She got up and looked around. Breathing was possible, she wasn't being tortured or strapped to the cot. On a table at the far end of the room, she could see food and water. Beyond the sheer walls, she saw the waterfall from before. Within her confines and amid the buzzing of electrical currents around her, drenching the room in an insipid glow, she recognized the view. The steely blue sky, the low-hanging gray clouds, the green fields, and the current against the black slates were all eerily familiar.

Waterfalls surrounded the glass and steel structure that apparently consisted of her holding cell and not much else. He had done it, again. And not only that. He had made sure she wanted for nothing, but couldn't escape, either. While musing on this point, Rey realized she had a massive headache, like she had been struck with a blunt object. Massaging her temples to alleviate the ache, she slowly turned her head to inspect the room a little further, and instantly froze in terror. Not only was she Kylo Ren's prisoner again, she was also not alone. Rey could feel his presence, before she lay eyes on the tall and hooded figure standing in front of some consoles, blinking red lights neatly scattered around him like marbles on a granite floor.

"He must know," she murmured to herself, "he must know that I'm awake." She was sure of it. Yet, nothing gave it away. His posture didn't change, nor did her mind detect any symptoms of him looking out for her. By now, Rey had become used to the feeling of having someone joining her in her most intimate moments. It was incredibly irritating, and Rey knew that she was on par with him in a lot of ways, but he was somehow able to _manage_ these force connections in a way that she didn't understand. Rey felt violated, as if her lack of knowledge had never been so evident, and so abused.

She watched him narrowly, barely moving her head around to see him through the glass walls. His posture was relaxed, but focused. He still didn't seem to notice or care that Rey had woken up. She suddenly remembered that he was no longer Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren. He was Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, leader of the First Order, and in full command of basically everything in all the systems. The thought made her shiver.

Kylo Ren, of course, had felt the movement in the Force. He sensed that she was awake before she had even opened her eyes. She was a little shaky, but not scared. He was pleased. Nothing so unpleasant as to have her on edge all the time. He wanted her to relax, get used to the idea of having him _around_.

Rey slowly got up from the cot, turning to the corner of the room, trying to escape the merciless lights and to observe him a little longer from a darker place within her cell, when suddenly his tall and dark shape towered over her at the other side of the glass door. He was like a cat, ready to leap. But the look in his eyes belied the threatening posture. On the dark screen of the door, she could see his breath settling, as he cautiously approached, inch by inch. He watched her. And to Rey, it felt like _longing_. It was the Kylo Ren she had met before, but not _easy_. Not being able to feign that he was. Like he was insecure and suddenly lacked the tools to hide it. And Rey was puzzled. She started to wonder if the episode in the pond had actually ever happened.

The look in his eyes reminded her of what it had been in the throne room, when they had fought the Praetorian Guards as a team. The same sensation percolated her system now, this sense of being _implored. _Rey was bewildered. He wasn't even in the same room as her, but he felt as close to her as her own skin did at that moment. Kylo Ren knew she wanted nothing more than to get away from him. Even more so than to forward the cause of the Resistance. He had finally superseded her motive, and that was all that he could hope for at that point. Kylo Ren felt this as a silent, bitter gratification that was unfit to warm his heart.

With some astonishment, he registered within himself the strong desire to remove the glass door between them _right now_. He almost forgot about strategy, but instead longed for her scent more than even he had imagined. But he waited, cowering. He had to know if she could ever _allow_ him to proceed. But he couldn't detect any symptoms of it in her. Instead, he felt that the contours of her mind were drawn out. Her resolve had become fringed around the edges, which meant that her thoughts had become less legible to him.

He stepped in, literally entering the holding cell without ever leaving the spot on the other side of the door. He reached out to her through the Force, opening up to her. Rey's sensors rushed up to high alert, but she couldn't stop it. She _was_ leery, but her powers were drained. Kylo Ren felt no wish to hurt her, punish or bully her. Even being so miserable in her heart and mind, having been half-awake and half-asleep for many days now, malnourished and under enormous pressure, she still radiated a warmth, a mastery of attraction and an abundance of life he had never seen or even heard of.

If Kylo Ren had previously allowed a tiny portion of himself – the flimsy sheets of his crystalline heart – to be enthralled to her, he now no longer managed this kind of compartmentalization. He had fought it long enough, and he could do no more. Whatever came to be, he must be there to touch her and feel the actual skin, feel that body move beneath his bare hands. Touching her on Ahch-To had been so much more than connecting with another human being. She had _initiated_ it, she had wanted it. And he couldn't ever want her to _stop_ wanting it. He hadn't brought her here to destroy her will, or to make her turn, or torture her in any way. He wanted her to end his torture.

Rey could feel the warmth of his body radiating through her own belly. The feeling made her head spin around. She could see the pain in his eyes, an inflection of his will, a submission to a deeper need, a more innocent course, untainted by stratagems. He was closer to her now, his breath brushing slowly, and coolly, against her clavicle. He had moved to her backside, touching the fringes of her cloth with a move that could have gone unnoticed, had not all her sensors been elevated to an almost unbearable level.

He had taken his time, very carefully making headway in being closer to her, dispersing doubt after doubt. He had broken down every single barrier she had erected out of suspicion as much as habit, and she had reinforced them with great panache and versatility. But she was no match for him. He had invaded her space many times over, and he wouldn't stop doing it. He had come close to her tiny dark corner in the holding cell, would come closer still, and eventually she would let him.

"You know what I want," he hushed into her ear. She only bowed her head slightly, gasping. Her body was heaving with agony. He felt it and drew back a little. He asked her, out of sheer desperation, why she would still resist something so inevitable.

"You better damn well _try_ to understand." She muttered, trying to give her words a firm air.

He deliberated for a moment, unsure whether or not she truly wanted him gone now.

"I want you to join me, Rey. That can't be news to you. And you want it, too."

Rey could only look at him, hoping that his eyes would mock his own words, or belie his meaning. None of it came forward. Kylo Ren knew how to be submissive when he needed to be. The years with Snoke had taught him that. Killing Snoke didn't make him any less of the Supreme Leader's disciple. Killing his father had indeed split his spirit to the bone, as Snoke had said. And Kylo Ren felt the desperate wish to be mended. He ached for Rey, in more ways than he had words to express. Even his mind couldn't tell her, but it didn't need to. Rey knew from looking into his eyes.

Small beads of sweat poured from his hairline and dropped lightly on his dark clothes. Why did everything about her involve a fight? She made it all so damn hard, made the New Order seem to unattainable. She made everything that he lived for seem like a fraud. As much as he would have laughed at that assumption coming from anyone else, it was an insult doubly felt coming from her, because she seemed so ignorant about so many things, and was yet a pro at exposing _him_, Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader.

Kylo Ren desperately wanted her to understand that he could _heal_ her. He wanted to tell her that he had finally figured out what she needed, and that he was more than willing to give that to her. Supreme Leader Kylo Ren could see no selfish motives in any of his thoughts, not even in his desire to be healed in return.

Rey was astonished. She couldn't answer right away. This was encouragement enough. He went on, his voice more akin to a whisper at this point.

"The reason you're so mad at me is because you never even _believed_ that I could be a healing power to you."

This made Rey smile, and the sparkle of her delight, broadly illuminating her face, made him weak in the knees for a moment.

"And who told you _that_?" She asked, in mock surprise.

"You did." He smiled, but his confidence was shaken.

"You didn't bring me here to punish me, did you?" She said.

"Why would I do that?" He appeared honestly perplexed.

"Then why _did_ you bring me here?" She asked.

He was floored by this question. In all his preparations, he hadn't expected that he would actually have to _explain_ himself to her.

"You must have felt it," he said, as if it were a matter of fact. "The Force must have told you." Ren's face had a smug expression and his wavy black hair was broken into by the dusty rays of light coming from the tiny lamp next to her cot. It was somewhat hilarious to see him like this. He appeared childlike, penetrable. Vulnerable. Then it came to her with clarity.

"You know, Ben, that's actually some bullcrap," she said, with a broad smile. He was shocked. She never called him by his old name. She had only ever addressed him with Kylo Ren, or called him a monster. He gasped audibly, cursing himself for losing his cool exterior.

"If I had, as you said, not only _felt_ your intentions, but actually appreciated them, and even encouraged and desired them, all the while being a lowly scavenger, while you were a Master of the Knights of Ren, you would have thought me a preposterous piece of shit."

Rey steadied herself to absorb Kylo Ren change color. Of all the emotions that had now captured Ren's face, embarrassment was the most obvious.

"What you've liked about me from the beginning, in spite of yourself, was me _not_ knowing how strong I was and how powerful I could be. And a part of you is still not too wild about the fact that I know now. But you can't help it. You're drawn to it. _You_ are drawn to _me_, not the other way around."

After thus being assessed, Ren had no other option than to stay quiet. He wanted to kiss her, but now he felt terribly uncertain about a step like that. His cheeks began to glow. Ren didn't know what to do with it. He couldn't crack her code. He didn't comprehend her spark of independence. Didn't understand how it was bred from necessity. And he also didn't understand how she could adapt to his world so well. It was like she got into his psyche, and just _lived_ there.

Kylo Ren envied Rey her the flexibility, the ability to adapt to, and be in charge of, various circumstances, and take her life back in an instant. She didn't need a system to rely on, she was her own master, working and sleeping and gazing off into the sunset as she pleased. Once she had stopped believing in her parents, she had come to understand that she herself defined who she was. Rey didn't know fear, and he couldn't understand how that was even possible. She was a mystery to him. And as he slowly withdrew from her yet again, never more unwilling to do so, Kylo Ren knew that he needed the skeleton of a strong organization to support him. And Rey didn't. He admired her for it, loved her for it, knowing himself to be light years away from this kind of agency.

He was gone. And while she was elated at first, she started feeling void and unsettled after a few days. He would not be coming back. His presence had been around her, even if his body wasn't. Then it had stopped. He had finally given up on her. And that feeling – the certainty, as was – terrified her. The thought of never knowing him, of being out of his life, suffocated her. Would but that he returned once more through the Force. Just as she had prepared to finally leave in the morning, that night, he did return.

_Desired Constellation_

She recognized the shape of his body in the room before she could see or hear him. In fact, she didn't even hear him say anything. He just appeared in the room, behind her, as mostly was his way. He was instantly in her presence, not waiting for an invitation or even suggesting there would be one. She had wanted him back, but she hadn't really wanted him to be this close all at once. But then again, she couldn't expect the angst-ridden and tortured man that she had turned the Supreme Leader into to hear her beacon call through the Force and be all breezy about it.

As his presence began to materialize, she saw him displaying that knowing smile of his. It brought a tingling to her stomach that she was a little ashamed of. Nothing escaped him, not even that. Seeing that, and being too pleased with that kind of reaction, Kylo Ren actually made the mistake of thinking himself the only predator in the room.

Steadily, he had come nearer. Never enough to fully overstep the mark, but just enough to disable any support she might have given herself to hold out against him. Slowly, he had moved up to her. The long, crooked fingers of his hand stretched out and brushed up against her left forearm. His touch made her cheeks flush and her chest hurt. She didn't tell him to stop. But she knew he could sense the anguish that coursed through her body. And Kylo Ren was trained enough to catch on to the unkind warmth that was almost a biting heat in her stomach. She was radiating, properly luring him in, all in spite of herself. Just the thought of him kissing her, softly and with progressing eagerness, made her high with anticipation. He did not budge and Rey had a distinct feeling that by this point, nothing she said would have made him stop. She was in too deep already. His lips enclosed on her neck, taking in the smell of her heat-soaked skin with vigor. Rey felt like she was about to be eaten alive.

He pushed her gently forward, placing her body on the cot with a gentle, yet assertive touch that belied his lack of confidence. He then slowly but firmly turned her over, caressing her back through the skimpy cloth. The experience was almost too much for Rey to process. For too long, she had been holding on to a saddening, contagiously bitter lack. Rey was shocked by the experience of having trouble breathing without immediate danger to her life. His hands removed the garment on her back, claiming her rugged and dusty skin with his lips. He removed her pants with ease and a slight grund left his body, as he marveled at the physique before him. She shivered from excitement and a slight cold in the air, which he immediately took up. Placing her under him and facing her, he began kissing her belly, light at first, then with more eagerness. Too good was the feeling of having what he had been coveted for so long. Rey's senses exploded in the pleasure and overwhelm of having the years of dryness sucked out of her. She noticed her face redden with embarrassment at the sudden exposure, but soon lost it in the assurance that he was enjoying what he was doing. His eyes smiled and his skin became a warm rush of a cover, closing in on her.

When she woke up, her first reaction to the dawning day was shock. She expected it to be Kylo Ren, more or less dressed in black. But the man snoring lightly next to her looked like Ben. Or like Ben the way she imagined Ben Solo must have looked like at some point. She was looking at him, aghast and eager to find out if even that lanky person with the dark and disheveled hair, drowsily asleep next to her, and just a little too tall for her cot, was really a Force projection. She suddenly remembered bits and pieces of the night before. How they had sunk into each others' arms, strangely satisfied, strangely relieved after it, so much so that being in each others embrace had been the ultimate delight. It was only hours later, tucked away in the covers, spending kisses and caressing each other freely, while day dawned outside, that an unknown heat started to build up between his lips and her belly, and she twitched. Her face fell into a frown, a sorrowful yearning that was there from one minute to the next. She moaned heavily, and he understood the meaning of it. But he wanted to make her wait. He wanted her to beg for it, and to go wild with the desire for him inside her. She was addled at first, but soon, a narrow streak of warmth clothed her insides and she felt her body accept, and demand, with unknown eagerness.

Ren had not felt this alive ever. Sweat poured from his forehead in tiny beads and pooled in his eyebrows, as he charged himself not to close his eyes, as this beautiful body came undone in his hands. Her warmth encased him and he was just blown away with the intensity of it. Rey sighed heavily and he shuddered at the sound. The air was cloyed with sweat.

In the hours that followed, they would hardly grant each other more air than was absolutely necessary. Their avarice was paramount, and it kept the atmosphere between them in a state of imminent combustion. The few times they allowed each other the respite of sleep, it turned into heavy slumber, interrupted by stares at each others' nakedness. Ren was mesmerized, unable to detach himself from Rey's physique, or the blind passion in her face that would not have escaped him for all the worlds. They would settle into a somewhat more tranquil display of their desire only after days. And yet, in their frequent and desperate encounters, Rey had tasted darkness.

_Triumph Of A Heart_

Weeks had gone by, and as another day broke, Rey found herself sitting on the cot, again, her legs pulled up to her shoulders. It was a default position she assumed whenever her instincts needed to regroup. She watched him drift aimlessly in deep and exhaustive sleep. Here he was. She observed the tall and lanky figure next to her, barely covered by the sheets, his wounds glaring into the small hours of the new day. Wrapped in a hasp of muted color, soundlessly drumming to his own beat. He looked so unbelievably vulnerable, so penetrable, almost fragile, she mused. His scent of birch trees, cinnamon and moss soothed her and sent chains of delight down her spine. Whenever he was gone from her, she felt it in her lungs constricting, and her skin twitching. Rey had never known this kind of despair. It was not comparable with hunger, or cold, or even the feeling of futile waiting. This kind of dependence on another human being – it was elating, but it was also frightening. Her thoughts wandered off to the past weeks with him. What they had experienced had nothing to do with power, and everything to do with surrender. Rey knew that he was hers. She had known early on. And here she was now, waiting to feel elated by it, even victorious, if only to start somewhere. But she felt nothing of the kind.

Rey had seen all her aridity washed away, her skin drenched in unbridled love, in constant affection and tenderness. Looking at him, almost imploring his sleepy figure for a sign, she realized that the silky waves of his raven hair – sprawled on the cushion like a black sun – reminded her of the cave on Ahch-To, and the sensation of freshness – so _new_ to her. What she had found in the cave had made her understand, it had made her believe in him, and she no longer wanted to redeem _him_.

All her life, Rey had believed that belonging was what she was after, hoping that she might one day be good enough for _someone_ to take pity on her. She couldn't remember a time when she hadn't wanted to be back with her parents, hoping to feel that connection again. She didn't actually remember her parents, nor the feeling of being part of a family. But _now_. Now that Rey was offered a belonging – warm, real, and human in every respect – she found herself suffocated by the prospect, her nerves tingling with the inexplicable desire to be free of it all. She didn't understand this at first, and thought she might have just been overwhelmed by it all. As the weeks passed, however, it became clear as the water in that cave. Loneliness was no longer a fate she had to suffer. It could be her choice.

Hope had been the retarding weight – it had kept her in the past, in her old life, the one that she couldn't let go of. But hope was now all gone. Her parents wouldn't come back, and they wouldn't reward her. And in her head, his words resounded. He had indeed healed her. And it had been healing by a razor blade.

In the midst of their bliss, Rey knew that what they had shared would have to come to an end. How exactly, she didn't know. It was like a signal going through her bones like electrical current; a narrow streak of thick red oil, silently, yet steadily breaking through the lush greenery of the forest. The forest that had opened up to her, given her shelter, coolness, freshness and vigor. But it had also shown her fear. The fear of abandonment, and paralysis: It was Kylo Ren who had grown that forest inside of her, a plantation that was expanding lavishly with every touch of his hand. She had lost herself in that immensely soothing experience. And she had come to see it as a dangerous, avaricious beast with entangling claws.

Ben Solo spoke to her loneliness, and it had been delightful to hear that scar sing in canon with another human soul. But it was Kylo Ren who got a completely different layer of her being to vibrate in anticipation. Rey found in him what she hadn't even known she was looking for. His darkness, his distortion, his anger, his rage and volatility were what she had _felt_ inside herself for so many years, but had never allowed herself to actually _express_. Too great was the fear of losing her worthiness of being _returned_ to. Kylo Ren had allowed her this anger, he even wanted to _fuel_ it. Now she understood it, but it was too late. He had returned to the light. He would join his mother, and he would do it all for her.

If Kylo Ren had been able to _scan_ Rey's mind, and read it like a page in a book, Ben Solo certainly wasn't. He was already beyond that stage of basic sagacity. Ben couldn't believe that a single fiber in his body was even capable of feeling the amount of joy that exploded in him when he saw Rey loosen the buns in her hair. The light brown waves cascading down around her lithe neck, as he would raise his forearm, just to let the hair tussle for a bit on his skin. The sensation drove him mad. His mind was engulfed by a strange, sweetly scented mist that made it impossible for him to detect any notion of hers with clarity. Instead, he felt hope – pure, senseless, unadulterated hope. Their fight against the Praetorian Guards had sparked it in him. He relentlessly hoped that she might fill the emptiness he had felt for so long, and replace any need for the First Order in him.

With Supreme Leader Snoke, Ren had known that he had served a purpose. But his heart had mostly been lonely, and tired. His soul had been encrusted with pride and isolation, and for the most part, didn't discern between the mentor and the tormentor. Rey coming into his life had changed that. She had exposed the Supreme Leader to his apprentice by being a ploy in his vile scheme. Even now, Kylo Ren shuddered at the thought of killing Rey. And Snoke's observation of his disgust had been correct. He had just gotten to the wrong conclusion. It was with intent, with clarity, and purpose that Kylo Ren had killed Snoke, becoming the Supreme Leader in the wake of his death. But he had done it for her, with her in mind.

When they had touched hands in the hut on Ahch-To, Kylo Ren had seen their life together, had seen her useless pedigree, but he had also seen her promising future at his side. And while he was knocked out from their final confrontation, she had _left_. Had left him alive, but still – she had left. Ren had tried to savor his betrayal. It was, after all, a source he fed on in his daily routine. Alas, it was no longer soothing to him. He had been betrayed – but this time it had been by his own vision. He had wanted nothing more than to lose that remorseless, bestial fear of abandonment – and he had hoped to all the stars that this time, it had only been a dream. In truth, Kylo Ren hadn't wanted to see what was right in front of him. How she had closed the door on him on that damned freighter on Crait. How she had looked into his eyes – not with hate, but not with passion, either.

As he woke up from this saturnine slumber, he turned around slowly, reluctantly, and found Rey gone. Ben was unsure for a moment if he heard his own heart shatter, or the glass walls around him breaking under the tremor of his anguish. And as the familiar stench of disappointment slowly crept back into his heart, he felt nauseated. He had understood her, effortlessly. He knew that for years, all that Rey had ever wanted was to let go, and to feel something that wasn't a desert, something that wasn't heat, something that wasn't torn, scarred, dirty, and reamed. He understood now that while they carried the same wounds, both had committed to opposite remedies. And the knowledge almost exploded his fractured heart. He had so much wanted her to let go of her old life, a life penetrated with the helpless passivity of waiting. How could he expect to be part of something dead? It was, after all, he who had _told_ her to let the past die.


End file.
